So Like His Father
by MissAnnThropic
Summary: Will might have my eyes, but he has his father’s soul.


Title: So Like His Father  
Author: MissAnnThropic  
Spoilers: Existence  
Summary: Will might have my eyes, but he has his father's soul.  
Disclaimer: I own nasing! Really, I don't. All you see here (that you recognize, anyway) is the creation of someone else. I take no credit.

* * *

We had a number of X Files in our home... not because we were looking into them, but I think it was because they'd been so close to us. That, and some of them were very personal. We each had files... God, how we didn't want to, but we did, and it seemed almost a penance of our work to have them. I'll be the first to admit Mulder and I can be self-punishing, and I think that's why we had a box of X Files in the bottom of the linen closet.

But the linen closet was an improvement. At first, they sat on the living room coffee table, the kitchen counter, the dinner table... it wasn't until Will took precedence in our lives that we allowed ourselves to shed our armor of guilt and pain to be that little bit more that William needed us to be. For all the mistakes Mulder and I have made in the past, we weren't going to let 'being bad parents to our boy' be one of them.

So the files got tucked into a dark corner, not forgotten at all but set aside in favor of something much more important.

Will is four, growing like a weed but still so much his mother's baby. His eyes are still as vibrant blue as the day he was born, but the older he grows the more of Mulder I see in him. His baby fuzz hair has given way to a rich brown that has the lightest touch of mahogany red/brown when the sun hits it. Underneath his cherubic cheeks, I can see Mulder's jawline. When he's seventeen, he's going to drive the girls wild. He has Mulder's penchant for getting into things, including trouble. Mom says it's a baby boy thing, but I swear he just takes after his father.

Mulder and I lavish unspeakable amount of love and attention on him, he's the light of both our lives, and Will's a happy boy for it.

I was cleaning up his room (my old guest room converted) when I heard him crying.

Afraid he'd hurt himself, I nearly ran out of the room and followed his sobs to the end of the hall.

I found him sitting on the floor in front of the open linen closet, box of X Files open in front of him and files and papers scattered around him. I was so expecting him to be hurt from his cries, that I was still looking for physical injuries. Worried, I knelt beside him and asked, "Will, what's wrong, baby? Did you hurt yourself?"

Will looked up at me, my own eyes meeting mine and swimming in a child's tears as he lamented as only a boy could to his mother, "They hurt Daddy."

I looked down at the papers in Will's lap and hand and saw he'd found Mulder's file from his abduction before Will was born. Forensic photos lay scattered like the most damning evidence of Mulder when he was found supposedly dead in Montana, and medical record photos of Mulder when he was disinterred. Right in front of Will, his little hand clutching the corner into a curl, was a hospital picture of Mulder, chest exposed to show the dark red line down his sternum where he'd been cut open. I shuddered... dissected alive like some animal.

I ran my hand through Will's hair lovingly, smiling as best I could, "Oh, Will... it's okay... Daddy's fine now." But Will seemed to doubt the truth of that as much as I did and still do... and probably always will.

Will's lips quivered, "They hurt Daddy, Mommy! They hurt him!"

I saw quickly that I couldn't console him, and I called down the hall, "Mulder!" If anyone could talk to Will about this, Mulder could.

After a moment's silence, Mulder poked his head out from the bathroom, wiping his hands on a towel. He'd been trying to dislodge a stuffed toy monkey Will had half shoved down the toilet. Mulder had thought it was funny since the monkey had been a gift from my brother Bill Jr., but pulling plumber duty had gotten him quiet real quick.

I stood as Mulder walked toward us, seeing Will crying and asking, "What's wrong?"

I stepped close to Mulder, whispering gently, "Tell him you're all right."

Mulder frowned, confused, then moved to sit beside his weeping son and saw the pictures on the floor. Mulder grimaced in regret that Will had happened to see those, and touched Will's shoulder, "Hey, Will... what's wrong, Buddy?"

Will, face tear-streaked, proffered the chest photo up to Mulder and whimpered, "They hurt you, Daddy... they hurt..." and Will's voice broke as sobs overtook him again.

Mulder too ran a hand through Will's hair, face taking on that gentle father look I'd never thought four years ago Mulder was capable of. His voice was deep and soothing as he spoke to his son, "Will... they hurt me, but I'm okay now. I got better."

I've sometimes questioned the policy of brutal honesty Mulder has concerning Will, but deep down I know he's right. Kept secrets and unspoken truths had done enough damage to our little family. We don't need any more.

Will was watching Mulder, obviously aching to believe him, but the pictures were too real.

Mulder sat back, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. He sat, bare-chested, beside Will, setting the shirt aside and saying, "See, Will? I'm all better now."

Will shifted up to his knees, bringing his soft little hand up and touching the middle of Mulder's chest where the cut in the photo was. The skin was unmarred and sprinkled lightly with soft hairs. At that moment, I was incredibly grateful for the strange healing Mulder had undergone that had left him without a scar.

Will's fingers danced the length of Mulder's sternum, quieted now and thoughtful, then he looked up and met his father's eyes.

Will glanced down at the photo again, then gently patted his hand against Mulder's exposed chest, "You're okay here?"

Mulder nodded.

Will seemed to search Mulder's eyes for something, then brought his hand up to splay across Mulder's temple and asked, "Are you okay here, Daddy?"

Mulder smiled, sadly, then trapped Will's hand to the side of his face with his own. As for myself, I watched stunned. Will might have my eyes, but he has his father's soul. At moments like these when my cheery small son becomes something more than just a little boy, I want to gasp in shock or weep for the beauty of it. Sometimes, Will is a completely normal little boy... and the next (like now) I see the deeper spirit and old soul that gives Mulder the allure and heart that he has. Will has that.

If I thought every child we had would be like Will, like Mulder, I'd want to have four or five. The world doesn't have enough of souls like Mulder.

Mulder's hands came up to clasp around Will's face, father and son regarding each other in a rapport I've never had or could understand. Mulder and Will seem to have their own language, and they're speaking it now.

Mulder dipped his head and touched his forehead to Will's. Will closed his eyes, as did Mulder. They'd done that a number of times before... it was their odd way of bonding, showing affection. I don't understand it, either, but I suspect that I'm not supposed to.

Mulder smiled, opening his eyes and saying gently, "Come here, Will," in his most gentle, inviting voice.

Without hesitating, Will crawled into Mulder's lap, leaning against Mulder's bare chest, losing himself in his father's musky smell and the contact with his soft skin. I know, I've done that before myself.

Mulder's protective arms closed around Will, engulfing him in a father's love, and soothed, "They hurt me very badly, Will... but that was a long time ago. As long as I have you and your mom, it doesn't hurt."

Will cuddled into Mulder's body, "It doesn't hurt, Daddy? Not at all?"

Mulder touched Will's cheek, urging the child's eyes up to meet his. Mulder smiled at his son, answering, "When I have you and that person right over there," and he pointed to me. When Will's eyes tracked to me I smiled in reassurance. "As long as I have you two, Will, it doesn't hurt at all."

Will smiled, a smile looking more and more every day like Mulder's, "We make you better."

Mulder nodded gently, "Yes, you do."

There was a touching moment of silence, then Mulder said, "Come on, let's put these bad pictures away," and began shoving our past back into its vault box. Will helped... more than he could know.

* * *

I found Mulder in the kitchen ten minutes later, throwing away the wet monkey. I agreed with that... once it's been in the toilet it's no longer suitable for Will. Mulder still had his shirt off from his talk with Will.

I snuck up behind him, leaning against his bulk and resting my face against his warm back. Mulder snaked an arm behind him, around me, then turned us both to face each other.

On my feet, I curled against his chest much like Will had, smiling and inhaling deeply of Mulder's smell as I half-teased, "We make you all better?"

Mulder hugged me closer, resting his cheek against my forehead and asking, "Have you ever known me to lie to him?"

I didn't have to answer... we both knew it, just like I knew the answer to my question.

END


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